Nantou Travel: Running Headlong to Caotun in the Middle of a Typhoon

Right now, I am in Caotun, Nantou.

Yes, right in the midst of Typhoon Krosa’s arrival. My good friend Xiao-Xiang urgently asked me to rush all the way from Tamsui down to central Taiwan Province, Republic of China. I can only borrow his PDA to get online, though typing on a PDA is infuriatingly tedious (table flip).

Around 6:00 PM, Xiao-Xiang and I headed to the equipment building of Taiwan Power Company (Taipower) in Caotun to install five seismic intensity meters. The goal was to record a full night of seismic data and take the readings back to our Taipei office for analysis.

Early the next morning after breakfast, we returned to retrieve the equipment and prepared to drive straight back to Taipei.

Actually, the night before I departed for Nantou, the wind and rain in Taipei were already howling fiercely. Nevertheless, at 6:30 on Friday morning, I boarded a city bus to Taipei to catch the 7:00 Kuo-Kuang bus bound for Caotun. Although rain hadn’t started falling from the sky then, the unmistakable scent of an impending tempest saturated the air.

Yet when I arrived in Nantou, brilliant sunshine greeted me, making me wonder if I was really in the same Taiwan Province, Republic of China. Then again, looking back at my time in New Zealand—where morning temperatures hovered below 5°C, soared past 20°C by noon, brought torrential showers by afternoon, and settled into cloudless skies by nightfall—I have long ceased being surprised by nature’s whims.

That evening, staying as a freeloading guest, I accompanied Xiao-Xiang in a cheap Caotun hotel (NT$800). Located directly above a post office, the front entrance gave off an unmistakable illicit vibe. Xiao-Xiang mentioned he had already lodged there for five nights without receiving a single shady phone call, dashing my mild anticipation of hearing interesting stories.

By Saturday morning, wind and rain in Caotun intensified dramatically; the gales were incomparable to the day before.

After recovering the instruments, I took the wheel and dashed to the Puli Winery, hoping to purchase some souvenir gift sets for Wan-Chen. Perhaps due to the incoming typhoon, the grounds were desolate, with just a few tour buses and a handful of visitors.

After buying two paired gift sets of liquor, Xiao-Xiang took back the wheel, cruising slowly north toward Taipei.

Along the way, we spotted a bypass road signposted toward Taichung. As we drove in, Xiao-Xiang joked that navigating mountain roads during a typhoon promised great thrill. But after ten minutes of driving, fallen trees increasingly littered the pavement. Out of safety concerns, I told him to turn around and stick obediently to the main thoroughfare.

To purchase suncakes in Taichung for Xiao-Xiang’s friend, we made a detour into the city. Driving along the Zhongtou Highway amid pounding wind and rain, I witnessed an eerie, desolate cityscape and deserted streets rarely seen in Taichung.

Following our Papago GPS, we tracked down an old bakery. Later, I heard their pastries were indeed quite delectable. After buying them, Xiao-Xiang suddenly had an impulse to take the freeway—well, he was driving, after all.

We rejoined the Zhongtou Highway to connect to National Freeway No. 3 (unfamiliar with Taichung roads, we strictly obeyed the GPS directions), running low on fuel along the way and getting slightly lost before finding a gas station.

To my delight, a girl who means the world to me called, urging me not to head back home; the storm in Tamsui was ferocious, and Wan-Chen worried for my safety. After our phone call, intending to listen obediently to her advice, I started looking into finding a motel for an extra night.

Xiao-Xiang behind the wheel, however, had other plans. Having grown oddly addicted to the adrenaline of “being buffeted wildly by freeway gales,” he insisted on pushing on to Tucheng. Yet as we drove further north, the winds howled fiercer and the rain grew heavier.

Finally, the windshield wipers on their company vehicle simply gave up the ghost (wait, what?).

Xiao-Xiang and I were left speechless. Fortunately, freeway traffic was sparse. Peering through the rain-blurred windshield, we searched for an exit ramp, determined to pull off and find a mechanic to repair the wipers.

We pulled into an unfamiliar small town (road signs were obscured by the rain), but both sides of the road were completely empty—barren and deserted. Crawling forward, we finally spotted what looked like a residential community. I urged him to drive inside to seek shelter from the downpour and check if a simple repair was possible.

Besides, what does Taiwan Province have the most of? Automobiles. Surely enough, an auto repair workshop operated right within the neighborhood. We phoned for assistance, and inspection revealed burned-out wiring. After a quick replacement (costing NT$200), we resumed our northward journey and arrived safely in Hsinchu.

Although winds seemed to abate slightly by nightfall, Xiao-Xiang had already cleared an extra night’s stay with his boss earlier that afternoon. We located a motel near Yuanpei University in Hsinchu (NT$1,200). In the process of searching for lodging, our car was nearly struck by a falling stainless-steel water tower ripped from a rooftop, missing our vehicle by a single lane!

Unfortunately, that motel proved terrible—falsely advertising internet that didn’t work at all; I strongly caution everyone against staying there! I forget the exact name, but it sits opposite the alleyway leading out from Yuanpei, featuring motel rooms below ground level and business hotel rooms above. That evening, I drove to the Hsinchu RT-Mart to grab dinner and reminisce about my past college days in Hsinchu.

The following morning after breakfast, I took the wheel and drove along the West Coast Expressway all the way to Tamsui. The highway was immaculate, evoking the tranquil aftermath of the closing scene in the movie The Day After Tomorrow.

Returning to Tamsui, the town felt subtly strange—perhaps some minor shift had occurred, or perhaps my own heart was longing for change.

As a side note: a few days later, I discovered that the wire screen on my second-floor transom window had vanished without a trace. To this day, I still wonder where on earth it flew.

The stormy fury under the freeway overpass in Hsinchu:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UVcG2P4j2lY

Conclusion: Inside a car, one should not only carry crayons and a camera, but having a digital multimeter is even better.

Original Link: Traveled to Caotun, Nantou during Typhoon Krosa’s strike on Taiwan Province, Republic of China, and ended up with broken wipers.